


Death is Kind

by Masu_Trout



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Biting, Blood Kink, Community: superhighschoollevelsmut, Corpse Kink, Disturbing Pillow Talk, F/F, Frottage, Gloves, Mid-Canon, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, vampire kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 18:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masu_Trout/pseuds/Masu_Trout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Kirigiri's mouth is barely an inch from Celestia’s own, and yet she asks the question with a faraway sort of detachment. As if this was just another mystery, another crime for the young detective to solve.</i>
</p><p> <i>Celestia needs to fix that.</i></p><p>Celestia abuses the Night-Time rule, Kirigiri has some very disturbing fantasies, and neither of them will admit to being the least bit fond of each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death is Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for some brief, unsexy mentions of the process through which bodies decompose. (And there's a sentence I'd never thought I'd be typing.)

“You know,” Kirigiri says calmly as she lets Celestia into her room, “There was very little point in proposing a night time rule if you’re going to break it for something like this.”

Celestia honestly can’t tell if that’s supposed to be Kirigiri’s version of flirting or if she’s just stating a fact. “Of course there was a reason,” she replies, and reaches out to catch Kirigiri’s hand. She traces the leather of the glove as she speaks, imagining what must be underneath. “I would hardly have been able to make my way over here if there had been others hanging around.”

(Soft, of course. Uncalloused. Blue veins, prominent and exposed, waiting for her to lean down and…)

Celestia shivers with delight.

Kirigiri almost-smiles and very deliberately pulls her hand from Celestia’s grasp. “I’m sure you would have found a way.”

Celestia almost snarls. She can feel her front slipping, leaving nothing but frustration and want want _want_ behind it. (She wants to get out of this school. She wants that money; enough to make her every dream come true. Most of all, she wants to toss Kirigiri onto the bed, pin her down and bite and hold her there until the sheets are stained red with blood.)

“You assume…” she says instead, breathing slowly and deliberately, “That this is something I actually care about.”

“It’s not an assumption,” Kirigiri replies flatly, that odd little half-smile never leaving her mouth. Before Celestia has time to respond, Kirigiri takes two steps forward and presses herself against Celestia. One hand wraps around Celestia's waist, holding her against Kirigiri’s body. Even through her layers of dress, she can feel the smooth leather pressing against her back.

“Oh,” Celestia breathes.

Kirigiri’s reaches up with her free hand and presses two fingers against Celestia’s neck.

“See?” she whispers into Celestia’s ear. “Your pulse is racing. Proof.”

“You-” Celestia can feel every curve of her body like this. Kirigiri’s warm, warm and disgustingly alive. It’s making it hard for her to breathe, let alone form coherent sentences.

“Yes?” Kirigiri's mouth is barely an inch from Celestia’s own, and yet she asks the question with a faraway sort of detachment. As if this was just another mystery, another crime for the young detective to solve.

Celestia needs to fix that.

“You are _impossible_ ,” she snaps, and kisses Kirigiri.

It’s a rough kiss, sloppy and biting and angry, but it does exactly what Celestia hoped it would do. Kirigiri gasps, a small surprised noise escaping from her throat, and the thought that she managed to surprise the unshakeable Kirigiri is almost more of a turn-on than the kiss itself. Celestia nibbles on Kirigiri’s upper lip, runs her tongue along the inside of Kirigiri’s mouth, holds and presses and _feels_.

Kirigiri’s hands dig into her waist and her collarbone, leaving wonderful, dizzying bursts of pain. The normally-unflappable girl is holding onto Celestia like she’s a lifeline, and her pale face is flushed a warm pink. Unable to resist, Celestia pulls away from Kirigiri’s mouth for a moment and presses her lips against the other girl’s cheek. It’s easy to imagine the blood running under there, brought close to the surface by Kirigiri’s arousal, pumping and flowing and coloring her whole body with its beautiful hue. If she just…

Celestia lets her lips slide, down down down until they rest at the hollow of Kirigiri’s throat. If she just opened her mouth a little, just caught a bit of her skin between her teeth and—

“Do you have some sort of neck fixation I should know about?”

Celestia jumps. _Dammit_.

“Well,” she says, trying to keep a whine out of her voice, “I don’t see you trying to move away.”

“I didn’t say it was a _problem_.” And now that Celestia’s focused on something other than Kirigiri’s neck, she can recognize the weak, breathy, needy tone in Kirigiri’s voice. “I was just curious, is all.”

“Well then,” Celestia says lightly, smiling into the curve of Kirigiri’s throat. “Why don’t you find out?”

She bites down.

Kirigiri moans and her hand shoots out to grab the back of Celestia’s neck and for a moment she thinks Kirigiri’s going to try to pull her away (no way in hell she’s letting go) but her hand just pushes down on Celestia’s shoulder blade and she’s holding her, holding her in place as Celestia sticks her teeth into Kirigiri’s neck.

Celestia thinks she might have moaned too, might be gasping and moaning and whining still. It’s hard to concentrate on that sort of thing, really, when she’s got her teeth where she’s dreamed about having them for days, when she can feel the pounding rush of Kirigiri’s pulse, jumping as it forces blood all through her body, when Kirigiri makes that sound and her knees go weak and she all but collapses into Celestia’s arms.

“Fuck,” Celestia mumbles.

Kirigiri huffs in agreement.

It takes two steps to drag them over to the edge of Kirigiri’s bed, two steps too long, and then she’s lying on top of her, rubbing against Kirigiri’s leg to try and get friction. Kirigiri moans once more, soft and breathy, then grabs onto Celestia’s arm.

 _Okay_ , she thinks, smiling to herself at Kirigiri’s clinginess, but then Kirigiri does something with her legs and next thing Celestia knows she’s staring up at the ceiling, Kirigiri’s body weight pressing her firmly against the bed.

“Hey!” she protests.

“That’s a very simple self-defense maneuver,” Kirigiri says smugly, smirking down at Celestia. “You have no one but yourself to blame if you weren’t prepared for it.”

Celestia thinks of protesting—she’s not the Ogre and this isn’t a damn wrestling match, but then one of Kirigiri’s still-gloved hands finds its way up Celestia’s skirt and semantics stop mattering very, very quickly.

“Fuck,” Celestia snarls, more to herself than Kirigiri, and pulls the other girl down on top of her.

\---

After that, it’s a bit of a blur. Kirigiri’s hair, Kirigiri’s neck, the soft touch of Kirigiri’s hands on Celestia’s inner thighs. Kirigiri over her, then under her again. Kirigiri’s fucking _ridiculous_ zipper—seriously, whoever designed that deserves an execution—and, once it’s finally been undone, the smooth skin of Kirigiri’s stomach and breasts and ribs. Friction and heat, rubbing up against Kirigiri until it becomes too much; until she hits an edge and falls over, gasping and panting and moaning and feeling Kirigiri’s body tense up underneath her.

She whines helplessly, pulling on a strand of Kirigiri’s hair as she comes. It shouldn’t be like this; she doesn’t want to show weakness this way. But it feels amazing, Kirigiri feels amazing, and she’s tired of keeping herself perfectly in control.

It feels good to be rough every once in a while.

Afterwards, the two of them lay together for a while. It’s a bad idea for a multitude of reasons, but Celestia’s far too tired to even think about getting up, much less walking back to her room. Instead, she focuses on getting herself better acquainted with the other girl’s body—that, at least, she has enough energy for.

Celestia hums as she rubs her tongue over the bones of Kirigiri’s ribs, pausing to nip at the skin under her mouth every so often.

“Mmm.” Kirigiri sighs, almost sounding content.

Her gloves are still on; she’d pulled away when Celestia had tried to get them off, poker face so perfectly guarded that even Celestia couldn’t hope to crack it.

“Don’t,” was all she’d said, and Celestia honestly couldn’t say she minded. (Especially not when they were so cool against her body.)

“So,” Kirigiri says, taking Celestia by surprise, “You still haven’t explained your penchant for my neck.”

Celestia sighs. Leave it to Kirigiri to focus on something like that.

Frowning, she lifts her head up to trace one finger down Kirigiri’s cheek. “Does it really matter?”

“Everything matters.” Kirigiri’s voice is like stone.

“Well,” Celestia snuggles up closer against Kirigiri, pressing their bare chests together and leaning down until her mouth is against Kirigiri’s ear. “I suppose I’d best confess, then. Yes?”

It’s not like she really minds, anyway. If anything, it’s nice to be able to talk about her passion with someone else, even someone like Kirigiri.

“I like to imagine,” she says, and relishes the way Kirigiri shivers against her body. “That I’m a vampire.”

Kirigiri snorts.

Celestia frowns. “Hey! Don’t laugh. I won’t tell you if you do.”

“I’m sorry. Please, continue.”

It hardly sounds like a sincere apology, but Celestia decides to let it slide. “I’m a vampire, and I’ve captured you. You’re in my arms, terrified. Helpless and struggling, and we both know there’s nothing you can do to stop me from just leaning down and-” Celestia nips at the flesh of Kirigiri’s ear- “Taking a bite. Then draining every last drop of your blood from your body…”

As Celestia goes on with her story, Kirigiri stops looking sideways at her with a face like she’s barely able to keep herself from laughing. Instead, her breaths go shallower, her face gets hotter, and before Celestia can even process what’s going on she’s pressing herself tight against Celestia again.

She is so into this. Hell yes.

“…And finally,” she finishes, “I leave you, little more than a wasted husk on the floor.”

“And then what?” Kirigiri breathes, sounding desperate.

“Huh?” Celestia pulls away for a moment to stare down at Celestia. “And then nothing. You’re dead. That’s it.”

Kirigiri frowns, sudden and vicious and sharp, and pulls Celestia back down on top of her. Her arms encircle her, cool leather against warm skin, and despite her position Celestia has no illusions about who’s in charge right now.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , the chant goes through her head, because Kirigiri could not have picked an easier time to kill her. Celestia is not going down like this.

But instead of pulling out a weapon, Kirigiri just leans up.

“Here’s what happens next,” she says. Her voice is cold, clinical, more like a mortician in the morgue than a girl naked in someone else’s arms. But there’s something addicting in it, a passion to her words that Celestia’s never heard before. “For the first week, my body will remain relatively unchanged. Around the second week, though, my body will begin to bloat.”

 _What the fuck,_ Celestia thinks. She doesn’t want to listen to this, doesn’t even want to think about that sort of thing, but Kirigiri just keeps talking.

“The bacteria eating at my inner organs will produce enough gas to distend my tongue, lips-”

Celestia kisses her, more to make her shut up than anything else. Kirigiri kisses back, eyes closed and mouth tilted open (and Celestia can feel her lips, her tongue, can imagine them blue-black and rotted and _dammit_ ). Celestia pulls back as a queasy shudder rolls through her body.

Kirigiri watches, emotionless. “Does it bother you to hear that?”

Celestia turns toward Kirigiri, just barely managing to keep a snarl off her face. She’s got a terrible temper, always has, but that doesn’t mean she’s an idiot. If she says or does something stupid here, it will cause…problems later on.

A few moments and a deep breath later, she’s calm again. “It’s only a fantasy, you know? It’s not meant to be taken seriously.”

Kirigiri turns her mouth down. “An inaccurate fantasy is still inaccurate.” She looks totally nonplussed, like talking about dead bodies is just her idea of appropriate pillow talk. Hell, maybe it is.

“There’s something wrong with you, you know that? You’re disgusting.” She tries to focus on the living parts of her Kirigiri—her eyes, her warmth, the soft pulse darting beneath her skin.

“I know,” she says. “I… yes. I know.” She curls up against Celestia and presses her head against her shoulder and wow, okay, Celestia wasn’t expecting that. She wishes she could see Kirigiri’s face right now.

She doesn’t say, “It’s okay,” or anything sappy like that—she’s not about to get sentimental over a potential target, even one she just had sex with. But if she pulls her a little bit closer or tucks Kirigiri’s head just a little bit tighter against her chest—it’s a strategy, that’s all. Just one more way to get the others’ guards down.

She’ll make sure to leave before the morning comes.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for superhighschoollevelsmut a long while ago, but I never actually got around to putting it up here. Hooray for procrastination, I guess? Anyway, thanks to the OP for the prompt! Also, if you noticed any issues, I always appreciate concrit.


End file.
